


When God Made That Chest (It Was to Tempt Me)

by neverananghel



Series: Domestic Husbands Verse [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Nipple Play, Nipple kink, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Xiukai - Freeform, domestic AU, domestic husbands, is there such thing as a domestic smut part 2, or maybe just a little bit of plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 08:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14638017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverananghel/pseuds/neverananghel
Summary: Minseok’s not the only one who needs recharging. Jongin just has something more particular in mind.





	When God Made That Chest (It Was to Tempt Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Magenta’s (a.k.a. @alphaseok / WorldsJunk) fault BLAME HER
> 
> Set in the same universe as [You’re My Relief](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631652).

Someone once said, “Do what you love and you will never have to work a day in your life.”

 

While this quote sounds like a very good advice, Jongin knows that in reality, there are only limited chances that this will happen. And if a person does do what he or she loves for a living, because of the demands of capitalism, more often than not, that person loses his or her love for her work.

 

In this sense, Jongin thinks he’s lucky.

 

During college, he didn’t think of the future. He didn’t consider what kind of jobs he will get, or if he will be able to get a job at all. But his heart—the only one he trusts in moments of confusion—only knows dance. As his passion. As his love. As his life.

 

So he followed his heart.

 

And despite the many struggles he had to face just to continue walking down the path he chose, he never, never regretted his choice.

 

Instead, as the years passed by, his love for dance grew even stronger.

 

Now, as a dance teacher in a studio he and his best friend Sehun established, he’s content.

 

But that doesn’t mean that it’s all rainbows and sunshine, he also has bad days. Just like today.

 

He loves dance, sure, maybe almost the same level of love he has for his husband Minseok, but sometimes, as a teacher, there are challenges that he has to face since it’s not just his body he has to move. He and his students are now moving to the more advanced moves in ballet in time for the recital they have set 2 months away, and as expected, things don’t go well.

 

He’s just more affected by it today than he should be.

 

Maybe it’s because when he woke up, Minseok already left to go to work, with not so much as a morning greeting to him or a note beside him. The project Minseok has been heading is now in its final stages, making his husband busier than ever and he understands that. They’ve been married for years to know that these kinds of things happen whenever this time of the year rolls around. But still, it’s lonely waking up only to notice that the warmth you’ve held all night has gone, only to be replaced by the chilling cold of the air conditioner and a seemingly too big space beside you on the bed.

 

Adding to his bad mood was realizing that he woke up late since he forgot to set his alarm. Instead of a calm and peaceful morning like most of his days, his morning became a rushed and chaotic one, Jongin deciding to forgo breakfast he never forgets to take and paying for an expensive taxi ride to the studio instead of commuting via bus like usual. And then when he arrived at the studio, he was faced with another dilemma—the cold weather is now attacking, affecting more than half of his students, perfectly coinciding with the time they need the lessons the most.

 

So yes, his day hasn’t been going so well.

 

Jongin looks at the digital clock they have installed near the door, the device reading 5:50 PM, making him sigh internally in relief. He only has 10 more minutes before today’s lessons end and he can go home.

 

Looking at the tired and scrunched faces of his students, he smiles softly deciding to be merciful today and dismisses them early. A chorus of “Thank you, teacher!” and “Good work for today!” echoes throughout the room, accompanied with the chattering and shuffling of people going out.

 

When the last student has gone home, Jongin packs up his things, finishing the last bit of water he has in his tumbler and places it inside his bag, and then checks his phone in case he missed any messages. He sees quite a few ones, mostly from the group chat so he skips checking that until later, and opens the one from Minseok with a smile.

 

**From: Minseok-hyung** **♥**

_Already home. What do you want for dinner?_

 

Jongin sends “Chicken!” quickly, his smile getting bigger as he turns off the lights and locks up the studio at the prospect of going home with his husband already there.

 

Breathing softly amidst the cold, he sits at the bus stop a little impatiently, already thinking of something even better than chicken that can improve his mood. For that, he has to wait.

 

\--

 

Jongin sluggishly enters their house, a little grumpy.

 

He can’t believe he fell asleep on the bus despite knowing that it only takes a little less than half an hour to arrive at his stop and almost missed it. He got up immediately from his seat making him a little dizzy and got off.

 

It’s a good thing that the house him and Minseok bought after two years of their marriage and saving is just a few minutes away from the bus station. He can now feel all the effects of the stress and strains of the day brought to his body, making him slow and unfocused in removing his shoes and coat as he enters their home.

 

He instantly spots his husband casually lounging on the couch in his usual sleepwear—a black and loose sleeveless shirt paired with equally dark shorts—with a beer in his hand and the other holding a remote.

 

Mustering up all the energy he has left, Jongin heads as fast as he can to where Minseok is, immediately flopping down on the couch and laying his head on his husband’s lap, moving little by little until he achieves the most comfortable position he can, sighing in contentment when he finds it.

 

Minseok, the love of his life, just chuckles at his antics, leaning down to place the beer and remote on the coffee table and with free hands, cards his fingers through his hair, Jongin letting out a groan of satisfaction feeling some of the tension in his body leave with every stroke.

 

“I’m pretty sure,” Minseok starts, his tone amused, “that my sister is now taking care of Tan. So why do I have a lap full of cat right now?”

 

Jongin just grunts as a reply, turning on his side making Minseok pause on his actions. He then burrows his face in Minseok’s stomach, scooting until his nose is touching the cotton of his husband’s shirt, butting the hands that are placed on his head as a signal to pet him again.

 

With a chuckle that Jongin can feel from their closeness, Minseok cards his fingers again through Jongin’s hair. “So, how was your day?”

 

Mumbling, Jongin replies the best that he can, “Bad.”

 

“Why was it bad?”

 

“Just… bad.”

 

Jongin can feel Minseok humming thoughtfully, the vibrations unintentionally making him shiver in anticipation. His thoughts when he was still at the station near the studio flashes in his mind, a shot of arousal traveling through his body. He can feel his blood going south, and he’s now hyper-aware that his position in Minseok’s lap means if he just turns his head he can feel—

 

His thought process is interrupted when he feels hands on his chin, his head being redirected so now he’s not facing Minseok’s belly anymore but is looking directly at his husband’s face.

 

“I asked,” Minseok says, smiling softly at Jongin, “if you want anything or want me to do something to make you feel better. Do you have anything in mind, hmm?”

 

“I—”, Jongin starts, his face warming when that thought again comes back unbidden in his mind.

 

“Hmm? What is it?”

 

Jongin tries to look away, but Minseok is still holding his face so he can’t. He turns even redder, his mind abandoning each and every train of thought except for that one. Getting more embarrassed as he stares longer at his husband’s eyes, he stutters, “I—I—Oh my god, hyung. I—I wan—”

 

But it seems like he doesn’t have to say it anymore. He sees the way something clicks in his husband’s eyes, the following snort and full-bodied laugh sounding so far away. Jongin can only hear his internal screams, the mortification making him close his eyes and deathly still.

 

Eyes still closed, Jongin can feel Minseok’s hands on his body, lifting his upper body so that instead of lying, he’s now sitting. He automatically folds his lower body bringing it up on the couch and hides his head between his knees. _Embarrassing embarrassing embarrassing embarrassing emba—_

   

Jongin hears some rustling and concentrates on that, until he’s being positioned again on Minseok’s lap who is now without his top, a squeak leaving his mouth silenced only when his husband locks their lips together.

 

Unable to resist, he kisses back, enjoying the way their lips touch each other. Jongin gasps when Minseok bites his bottom lip, his husband immediately making use of the opportunity to thrust in his tongue. He loves their moments like this where everything fades aside from the way their mouths are in constant contact, their tongues tangled, with little breaths and sounds here and there.

 

After a few more minutes of making out, Minseok pulls away—lips red, swollen, and slick with saliva. Breathing heavily and still dazed, Jongin feels warm all over, as if the temperature in their home is turned too high, and realizes that he now has a problem.

 

Minseok doesn’t let him dwell too long in his thoughts, moving to lie down on the couch with a hand sneaking behind Jongin’s head for him to follow, moving it lower to where he has been wanting it to be ever since he got off from work—in front of his husband’s defined chest.

 

On top of his husband with Minseok’s pink and perky nipples just in his line of sight, tempting him to just latch his mouth on it, roll it between his teeth, and slather spit all over it using his tongue. His mouth waters just thinking of all the things he can do to it and—knowing his husband’s tendency to just let Jongin do whatever he wants—how long he can do it.

 

“Go on,” Minseok commands, “I know this is what you want.”

 

With the permission, Jongin moves.

 

He lowers his head, blowing softly first at one nipple, distantly hearing his husband’s gasp, and mouths over it. He stays still for just a few seconds as he settles his hands—his left supporting his weight atop his husband and his right moving to play with the other nipple. When he’s finished with his position, he sucks on the nipple hard—Minseok groans—rolls it between his teeth, and moves his tongue all over it, making sure it’ll be nicely wet and covered in spit by the time he’s done with it.

 

His dick, now fully hard inside his sweats, gives a twitch, but he gives it no mind. He can deal with it later, preferably with his husband’s help but it doesn’t really matter. But this—him sucking on Minseok’s chest—is one thing that he absolutely _loves_.

 

He focuses on letting go every tension he previously had in his body, relaxing even further against Minseok’s warm and sturdy body. His mouth never rests though, continuously moving on his husband’s chest, releasing the nipple every now and then to suck the skin on the other parts of Minseok’s pectorals. What he’s doing will surely leave bruises with colors ranging from red to purple. Just imagining his husband’s chest covered with hickeys of his doing is enough to make Jongin moan soundlessly, his neglected cock throbbing painfully from where it’s trapped.

 

Jongin rises momentarily, slowly and reluctantly, panting. His breath comes out in warm gusts, and now that his mouth is not attached to Minseok, he can feel how they’re tingling and wet, red and most probably swollen.

 

Unconsciously, his eyes drag themselves to absorb the image of his handiwork. Minseok’s right arm is covering his eyes and he’s also breathing heavily, flushed, and with sweat covering his body making it look like he has glitters all over. His chest is glossy, not with sweat but with Jongin’s saliva. He admires his work, especially when he sees how perky his husband’s nipples are, one from his mouth and the other from his hand. Small patches of red are now also blossoming against Minseok’s pale skin, making a shiver of pride and possession wrack through his body. He did that. Him.

 

As if waking up from a dream, Minseok removes the arm covering his eyes and looks at Jongin, who’s not on his chest anymore but is straddling his legs. He blinks a few times to clear his vision and groans. Then with a hoarse voice, he asks Jongin, “Why’d you stop?”

 

“Hmmm,” Jongin hums, moving carefully to align their hips together, “I want something more.” And then he rolls, rubbing their erections against each other.

 

Both of them groan, the mix of pain and pleasure a little too much and at the same time, not enough. So Jongin does it again, this time Minseok meeting his movements. The moment Jongin rolls his hips down, Minseok thrusts up—the sensations increasing twofold, a gasp leaving Jongin’s mouth unconsciously. He can hear his husband release a breathy moan, the sound like music in his ears. (Minseok’s breathy moans are one of his top “My favorite Minseok sounds in the World”.)

 

They do it again, and again, and again, until Minseok, too wrung up and wanting release, sits up with a growl and practically manhandles a willing Jongin. Their positions end up reversed—with the elder on top and with Jongin in his previous place, lying on the couch looking at Minseok with wide but eager eyes.

 

Minseok quickly removes Jongin’s sweats and boxers in one go, then turns to his own shorts. Jongin replaces Minseok’s hands on his shorts, removing it swiftly, and exclaiming in delight when he’s immediately faced with his husband’s angry, thick cock.

 

His mouth salivates at the thought of it in his mouth, imagining it hitting the back of his throat that he needs to suppress his gag reflex, but he banishes those images in his mind. He’s too tired, wound too tight, and impatient for that, and with a glance on Minseok’s face, he is, too.

 

So instead, he wraps his hand around Minseok’s, enjoying the elder’s surprised gasp and the way he can feel it throb against his skin. He knows that both of them don’t want to drag this too long, so he releases his grip and spits on his palm, knowing from experience that while spit may not be the best lubricant, it’ll do—especially in situations where none of them will mind (this is one of them).

 

Jongin wraps his hand again on his husband’s cock and moves. He tries to not mind his own painful erection, focusing on getting Minseok off first, but after a few more tugs, he releases an involuntary whine of helplessness. He wants to please his husband, his Minseok, wants him to come first, but right now, he can’t.

 

His husband takes over, pushing him back on the couch to lie down. Minseok then moves on top of him, the same position they have a few moments earlier. The elder then takes both of their cocks, his small, pale, and pinkish hands doing their best to wrap the two of them. It’s a tight fit, but they manage.

 

When Minseok’s hand starts to move, Jongin’s mind is lost. The only things left are their exchange of grunts, groans, gasps, and moans, and the pleasure he’s feeling, making the coil in his stomach wound tighter and tighter.

 

He feels too much and too little at the same time, both vaguely and hyper-aware of everything that’s happening. He can feel the way Minseok’s other hand is gripping his hips strongly which will surely leave finger-shaped bruises by tomorrow. He can feel how Minseok’s breath tickles the fine hairs on the side of his neck, which means that his husband is now nearly lying on top of him and isn’t staying as upright as he wants anymore.

 

Each movement of Minseok’s hand makes his sanity chip little by little, the agony getting stronger and stronger with every flick of his wrist. He can feel his release getting closer and closer. And then, with one more tug, all of it is unleashed.

 

Jongin comes with a silent scream torn from his throat, his mouth open unattractively, his eyes shutting so tight, he can see white spots in the darkness. His ears are ringing and everything feels so far away at the moment.

 

After a few seconds—he knows, he counted to keep track of the time despite it feeling like hours—and with a few big gulps of air, he relaxes his tensed body, exhaling a sigh of relief. He feels boneless, but the exhaustion and tautness he felt earlier are gone—well, maybe not the exhaustion, but he’s feeling better, infinitely better.

 

He feels a heavy weight on top of him, only now realizing that while he’s too lost in euphoria, Minseok also came and is now slumped fully on him, breathing heavily, and—Jongin guesses—as boneless and tired as he feels.

 

They stay like that, quiet and in their own little bubbles, until Minseok starts moving to get up, groaning all the way. Jongin just lets him do all the work by himself while he’s staring thoughtlessly at the ceiling. His limbs still feel like jelly and he doesn’t want to move at the moment—or until the next century.

 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see his husband getting off him with a grimace when he sees plenty of sticky white substance in his hand, and walks away. Knowing Minseok and his responsible and clean self, he must be going to the bathroom to get a rag to wipe the both of them off.

 

So, Jongin lets his mind wander, only to get startled when he feels something touch his belly. He looks down and is met with the sight of his still naked husband, now armed with a rag and is wiping his body with it. When Minseok’s done, he leaves Jongin once again to put the soiled rag in their laundry basket.

 

He must have dozed off or is just too dazed because when he comes to his senses, he’s in his husband’s arms and is being let down to their bed. He lets out a soft noise of confusion, which alerts Minseok, making shushing sounds at him like a baby while he arranges the both of them under the covers. And then he becomes aware that he’s still naked—and he usually sleeps in a pair of briefs or boxers at least before he goes to sleep—but before he panics, Minseok scoots closer to him until they’re skin to skin. His internal turmoil subsides when he realizes that his husband isn’t dressed, too.

 

The warmth Minseok’s body is emanating is very welcoming, so Jongin moves even closer, positions his head under his husband’s chin, and tangles their legs together. This way, his nose touches the crook of his husband’s neck so he breathes in—and is instantly overwhelmed by the scent of sweat, sex, and something uniquely Minseok, that he lets out a sigh of contentment and happiness.

 

Seeing Jongin’s actions, Minseok lets out a snort, an arm moving to drape itself on his husband’s body and pull him even closer. He closes his eyes, satisfaction thrumming in his body, and gets ready to sleep.

 

Minseok is already half on his way to dreamland when he feels Jongin’s lips moving through his skin, which means that he’s saying something. He opens his eyes, mind bleary, and asks Jongin, “Didn’t hear you, sorry. What’d you say?”

 

“I said,” Jongin replies softly, rubbing his nose against Minseok’s skin, “thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

A few moments pass after his question but Jongin stays silent. He assumes that his husband has fallen back to sleep, so he closes his eyes again, ready to follow him, now that he can feel his exhaustion this day brought him.

 

And then, softly, Jongin replies, “For _everything_.”

 

Despite the silent moment, Minseok lets out a loud laugh, too happy to not do anything other than smile stupidly even when he knows his husband can’t see him because he’s too busy burying his face on the slot between Minseok’s shoulder and neck. Knowing Jongin too well, he knows that his husband is blushing, which makes him let out a laugh once more. Jongin is just _too adorable_.

 

Stalling his reply, he hugs his husband and tangles their legs even tighter. When he’s satisfied with their closeness, he shuts his eyes, and in the same soft voice that Jongin used, says, “I love you.”

 

“Hmmm, hyung. Love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- Dear Magenta, I know you have a lot from the notes that you gave me but I ran out of steam. Hehe Still, I hope you’ll be a little happy with this! ♥
> 
> \- I wanted this fic to be PWP but I guess there’s a little bit of plot there? Or am I the only one who can see it? LOL
> 
> \- Aside from a short run on Grammarly, this fic is not proofread and beta’d. If you see any mistakes, please let me know so that I can fix it.
> 
> \- Comments give me life!! Feel free to tell me what you think below!
> 
> PS. You can also talk to me on Twitter: [@cheonsassime](https://www.twitter.com/cheonsassime)


End file.
